Concept practice
Note this is a pure first draft. No editing. Hardly a spell check. This is the raw thing. And maybe the first in a series. This was inspired by something a friend posted/said on FB that I can’t recall precisely but the upshot is it was something about giving a child a haunted object. Also I used AI to create the image, I needed a Black child blowing fire. I did a lot of editing and whatnot to create this. If this bothers you please don’t tell me, I don’t need to know. It is a tool I have and I needed it. Thank you.
“Yazzy, you smell like outside go change.” Yazzy looked up at her mom grinning, one of her afro puffs was tilting to one side, she had a smear of dirt across her forehead and her trusty bear under her arm in a headlock. “Mommy, look Shanny nose.” She held up her teddy with tears in her big brown eyes, “Mommy fix?” Althea smiled and took the bear into her arms, “oh no poor Shanny. I will admit him, go wash up.” Yazzy brightened and turned to run to her room.
Yazmine Era McClure was the spitting image of her paternal grandmother Era down to her stocky frame and crooked pinky toes. When she was born, nothing had gone to plan. Althea went into labor while watching her husband and his brothers dancing around a bonfire under a new moon to encourage Yaz’s birth. It worked all right, when the first real contraction took her in a vice grip and doubled her over when she looked up to tell her husband for a split second all she saw was fire, heavens, and those beautiful Black men in their red and white outfits, she heard his voice, “my child shall breathe fire, be born the-”
“Yazid!” When Althea came to her senses with the next contraction the spell was broken and Yaz sr as she took to calling him leapt into action. Before dawn the next morning, Yazid was holding the tiniest, most beautiful little thing, “Althea, look what you did.” She smiled at him blearily, “you helped a little babe.” They giggled together; the family hadn’t even had time to arrive before Yazzy made her entrance. A few hours later aunts, uncles, cousins, play cousins and everybody came to welcome Yazmine Era McClure into the world.
–
Yazzy emerged from her room wearing her ‘scrubs’, a pair of old soft mint green pajamas she’d decided were her nurse clothes. Althea already had the poor raggedy old bear laid on the table on a cloth, she had her sewing kit out, “ready Nurse McClure?” Yazzy got them each a mask from the dispenser by the backdoor and stood at her mother’s elbow, “yes ma’am.” Althea talked while she worked, she’d been a medic in the army and Yazzy loved getting to be her nurse.
The old bear was so ugly, Era McClure Yaz’s grandmother had given it to her at birth. Even then poor old Shazzy wasn’t cute. Era told Althea she’d had the bear since Yaz was little but he’d never taken to it, she’d thought it an odd thing to say at the time but forgot about it quickly. Era was eccentric and beloved, “needle.” Yazzy carefully plucked the needle from where it sat and waited for her new favorite part, “now Dr. Mommy?”
Althea and Yazzy spent the next few hours tending to Shazzy. Althea got his nose sewn back on and gave him a good spot cleaning. When Yazzy heard her father come in she ran to meet him and Althea sniffed the bear, she’d never mentioned it but he always smelled like smoke to her but not in a dangerous or unpleasant way. When she closed her eyes she saw flames dancing on the back of her eyelids, images of her husband shirtless, sweating and gorgeous whirling around a fire as the flames licked in a black velvet sky. It was always the same vision, the same dream.
–
Summers, the McClure’s spent in Louisiana way out in Vernon Parish a ways from Leesville at the McClure ancestral home. Yazzy and Yaz sr spent hours outside together, they ventured around the property he’d grown up on. He taught her how to care for the land, which snakes she could bother, how to split wood and other more secret things. Althea was never a very spiritual person, she had the kind of vague faith that left her feeling good and supported but she had no desire to get deep into any worship. The McClure’s were deeply spiritual in ways that made no sense to Althea but she loved it.
–
Occasionally when they went into town, Althea would hear murmurs about the McClures. Little old ladies would smile and suck their teeth, “oh baby, you a McClure now.” She had no idea what they ever meant, once a woman in the grocery store was cooing over Yazzy, then leaned close to Althea to murmur, “oh she got that McClure lagniappe, eh baby?” Althea just smiled.
“Mommy!” Yazzy’s scream yanked Althea out of her daze, she’d been sitting on the back porch listening to Yazzy play while she shucked peas. Yazzy’s voice sounded wet with panic, Althea threw the bowl and grabbed the shotgun from where it leaned against the house, she’d learned the hard way to keep it in reach, she only hoped it wasn’t an animal. As she ran around the shed in the watch yard Yazzy stood there alone, her bear Shazzy held in a death grip.
Althea was confused, Yazzy was whimpering with fat tears rolling down her dirty brown cheeks. “Yazzy, baby what-” Yaz didn’t turn, she stood as if paralyzed staring toward the long driveway, she started to mumble still staring off at nothing. Every hair on Althea’s body stood up off of her sweat sticky skin and her skin crawled, “drum king, mighty, drum- mighty father, m-” Althea shook the paralysis off and with the shotgun held awkwardly under her right arm she swooped Yazzy up with her left and ran back inside.
–
The last Friday of summer during the last waning moon, the whole week Yaz sr, his brothers and their aunties had been preparing for a family event. Althea and baby Yazzy were tasked with the cooking. They followed a recipe off the back of an ancient envelope, Yazzy was delighted. “Mommy that’s grandma’s writing. Nana Era.” Althea stroked Yazzy’s braids, “do you miss your nana?” Era had passed several years before, Yazzy looked confused. “No Mama she’s here.”
Perhaps it was just a pitfall of being a first time parent or never having been around many kids in life, she thought maybe Yazzy had been talking to some of her Christian cousins about heaven and it made her smile. Yazzy went to get her special mommy’s helper stool and get her apron on. “Althea baby, you are making the amalá de Xangô?” Althea nodded, “I forgot to ask, um how thick should the cornmeal be?”
Finally it was time. Althea spent most of Friday following carefully written instructions cleansing their home, cleansing Yazzy and herself. She dressed in red and white, Yazzy ran around putting adorable red and white beaded bracelets on everyone. Yaz sr had spent his day in meditation and prayer, everything was ready. “Mommy did you finish the vest for Shazzy too? He wants to come.”
“I did my love. And guess what?” Yazzy bounced on her feet, “there’s more surprises Mommy?” Nothing ever brought Althea more joy than that tone of curious amazement Jazz had, “there is. Inside your Daddy left you some flowers and some fruits to bring to the bonfire, okay? Do you think you can carry them by yourself?” Yazzy nodded, “yes ma’am. Can you carry Shazzy and make sure he isn’t nervous?”
Althea dutifully took her other ‘child’ and while Yazzy ran inside she held the bear up to talk to it, “well Shazzy you look so nice tonight, are you ready for the party?” For reasons she’d never know, after she said it she paused just like Jaz did to wait the answer. There weren’t words but, she swore she heard a hearty, gravelly chuckling in her left ear, the side she had set the bear on her shoulder as if she were going to burp him.
Like Yazzy all those weeks prior she froze for a long minute and turned to stare out at the drive. Nothing there yet, she knew everyone was in the house already except for cousin Scooter, he was running late. Yaz sr came from around the shed grinning, “baby you look good like this. Wow.” Althea blushed and shuffled her bare feet under her wide white skirt, when he advanced on her and swept her into his arms and kissed her loudly all over her face she laughed, “stop it Yaz, stop.”
–
By moonrise everyone had eaten, poured libations, and Yaz sr stoked the fire. Althea was admittedly a bit tipsy, she sat a bit off to the side sipping water watching. Yaz never insisted, he never proselytized to her about his Gods, she had no need for the same worship he had, she felt happy and safe just being in the sphere of his faith. Yazzy ran over, drunk on candy and staying up late. “Mommy, keep Shazzy company please? Daddy said it is time to dance.”
Althea held the ugly bear on her shoulder sitting so he could watch too, “have fun honey careful.” Yazzy ran back towards the fire where her uncles, father, aunties everyone else was already in the throes of moonlight and worship ecstasy. Yazzy threw her little arms up, her body swaying to the drumbeats blaring from the speakers they’d set up, Althea felt a little strange, logy.
Again she heard that deep chuckle in her ear then a voice with a heavy accent. “Ahh, let it never be said Shango doesn’t love his children.” She was way drunker than she realized of course, the bear was not talking to her. “Just like her grandmother. Do you know young lady what it is that your precious little one prays for?” Althea couldn’t turn her head to look at the bear, her wide eyes were glued on her family.
Against the wild orange of the flames she watched them whirl, Yazzy had her eyes closed and her back bent, Yaz sr had thrown his shirt off along with the other men and they too spun and she swore tendrils of flames licked out of his mouth toward the sky. It was so dreamy, she wasn’t drunk. Althea was somnolent and loose, relaxed, she felt the cloak of protection, “what does she pray for?”
“The child prays for power like her grandmother.”
–
The voice faded; Althea held the bear inhaling the smokey smell of it. Yazzy was singing loudly, “Sangooooo, dragon. Sango. Dragon.” The way she said it, Sango and dragon almost rhymed. Althea tilted her head, Era when Yazzy was still just a toddler would spend hours telling her stories from the diaspora, about religions and gods and it hit her, kings. Yazzy like herself often misheard things.
As her understanding dawned, she looked up to see Yaz sr holding Yazzy over his head, her little head was tilted back and as she opened her mouth a pillar of fire shot into the night, she roared at the sky. Her sweet little voice had every bit of bass she could gather from her little body, “you who defeat your enemies breathing fire through your mouth, today I ask you to conquer victory for me-” and the sky roared back. Above them clouds raced over the moon and the sky roared back.
Althea stood as the air went still around them, everything was silence even the fire seemed to freeze. The bear still in Althea’s arm got warm, she heard the chuckle again then pure pregnant silence. Above the sky shook with thunder that Althea felt in her bowels, she clutched the bear, unable to catch her breath or take her eyes off of her husband and daughter.
Yazid’s face turned up to the sky as the lightening frosted he and Yazmine in pure silver, Althea’s heart felt like it jerked in her chest then started to thump to the beat of the drum music still playing. That time the chuckle turned to a deep belly laugh so full of what Althea could only think of as the most comfortably masculine sound of amused consternation, “dragons, there are no dragons in Africa and yet-”
Althea didn’t understand but her blood understood. Yaz started to sing in his clear strong baritone, in his arms Yazzy’s little face was suffused with a joy bigger and brighter than the next flash of lightening. Althea heard him in her left ear again, Shazzy’s ear fluff tickled as she listened, “dragons.” Then that same bemused chuckle, Althea didn’t feel drunk still, part of her brain was gibbering about madness and PTSD, she thought briefly of one of her guys from her unit who’d lost his shit and almost killed someone, that part of her brain said to fear but she had none.
Around the fire Yazid held Yazmine in his arms, from where she sat Althea could see the glassy gleam in their eyes, she’d seen it in them at other times, other celebrations in the family. Much as she wanted to remain agnostic about it, she couldn’t. Around them things moved in the darkness; Althea was so caught up in the whirling flaming joy of watching her family communicate with their gods she didn’t see the flicker in the dark.
Scooter finally arrived, he came running from the house in his white pants his locs piled atop his head, but he skidded to a stop next to Althea, “Al, yo come on. We got problems.” He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled so loud Althea almost dropped Shazzy, “you Yazid! Pierre! Come on y’all.” What had been a cozy moment of communing with the spirit world turned in a way that made Althea feel cold inside.
The strange magic in the air shifted, the next crack of thunder revealed what was coming. For years Era told Althea stories about the area they lived on, tales to rival those about creatures in the woods like Dullahans and the rougarou, swamp monsters, haints and all types of fantastical things. Althea loved the tales, Yazzy loved them and often after Era passed Yazzy would tell the tales to her mother. They were tales. Stories.
Between thunderclaps Althea heard it, rustling and murmuring. She had no idea she had Shazzy in a death grip, holding his battered old face against her neck, all her training and instincts were gone. Nothing prepared her for what was happening. Yaz set Yazzy down and nudged her toward her mother, he and the others all ran around grabbing shovels and anything else they could swing. “Baby get in the house.”
Yazzy easily squirmed away from Althea, a scowl on her little face. “Mommy hold Shazzy plese.” Scowling Yazzy turned to face not the wood but the driveway, Althea felt herself turning in slow motion, the part of her brain still screaming struggling to force herself back to reality. Reality told her no her precious little baby did not blow fire, the teddy bear in her arms wasn’t whispering against her neck in what her soul said was Yoruba, there were absolutely not a gang of blurry things marching up the driveway.
Althea squeezed Shazzy harder, the bear in her arms got hot and she heard Jazzy’s little voice rise above the growing din of howls from the things coming out of the woods, the family all fighting at the treeline, she did not hear her daughter screaming. “Shango! Protect us glorious father! Allez! Allez!” Overhead the sky got darker yet, thunder clapped so hard Althea dropped, arms over her head.
Under her the bear cushioned her face before it hit the ground, she could hear that voice again. Just a whisper, “shhh shhh my child. See. See what you have wrought upon this world.” Althea looked up, Yazzy stood feet apart, staring down the approaching hoard of creatures. As they coalesced into solid forms Althea could see the outlines of the hoods, hear the chants.
Yazid stood over the rapidly decaying corpse of some kind of half human thing made of dust and filth, he turned to head inside and saw Yazmine take her battle stance. Panic cold as fingers touching his bones took him and he tried to run to her. “Scooter! Scooter get her! Get her!” Scooter turned but something shot a hand out from the bushes and grabbed his ankle in an iron grip, he fell hard.
The only person not panicking was Yazmine. She knew exactly what was happening. When Grandma Era had been dying, Yazzy spent hours in her bed with her listening to her stories. They’d had many conversations about possibility, gods, magic and monsters. “Nana is Shango a dragon?” Era’s eyebrows lifted, “what do you mean?” They had been sitting up in Era’s bed, Era braiding Yazzy’s hair while she colored a book about the Orishas. “A dragon?”
“See Nana,” Yazzy read slowly, “Shango’s elements are thunder and li-li-lightening and fire. That’s dragon stuff. He’s a dragon like toothless but big.” Yaz had been 6 and Era didn’t have the heart to try and convince her otherwise. Yazzy knew what to do, she read a lot of dragon stories. She knew that lots of people said they were bad, like they said about Black people, and she knew that was wrong, so they had to be wrong about dragons.
Yaz talked to Shango a lot, she sang to him while she played, she told her bear Shazzy every story she knew about him. Overhead and everywhere they all heard the voice, deep as the night was terrifying, “fight for your place little warrior.” Yazmine needed nothing else, when the first hooded robed thing reached for her, it snagged long skeletal fingers in her hair and she howled in pure rage.
Yazzy rarely had tantrums, she was rarely overly crabby, she was a perky happy child. For the first time in her life she understood anger. She understood why her daddy had punched a man in the face one time when he’d frightened her and her mother in a grocery store, she got it. She stumbled back and started screaming, “don’t touch me get off our land. My father God of fire give me courage to protect our house and defend our souls. Cover us in-”
Yazid finally got to Althea and pulled her to her feet, for some reason she turned Shazzy in her arms so he could watch too. Yazmine inhaled and thundered, “cover us in fire!” Naturally, given that she was the child of an anime lover, her father she did the thing that made sense. Feet spread wide apart she lifted her arms and stood there screaming.
A pillar of flames shot out of her mouth followed by fire from her hands, Yaz could say nothing. Althea inexplicably started cackling, clutching Shazzy to her chest, laughing so hard tears rolled down her cheeks, her mouth wide open. She sang just like Yaz did, “Sango, dragon….sango, dragon.” The white robed undead couldn’t run fast enough. With the will of a 7 year old girl with a new toy, Yazzy kept screaming fire at the things until they all burnt.
When the last fell the air went dead still. Nothing moved all they could hear was Yazzy panting the adults couldn’t move. Yaz shook herself like a puppy, spat, cleared her throat and turned grinning. Overhead there was a last massive clap of thunder and lightning so bright it took Althea’s breath, in the moment the world was lit up that way they all heard it. Deep laughter, the laugh of a delighted father watching his little girl punch the boy who tugged her hair in the face, the delight of a father hearing his most precious baby tell someone to fuck off for the first time.
The words came from Shazzy. “Only in America does a child reshape her god. Ashe.” The sky cleared, a breeze came through cool and sweet. The corpses of the monsters disentegrated and blew away, the rancid stink of their rot went with it on that sweet cool breeze. In Althea’s arms Shazzy seemed to cool down, Yazzy ran over with her arms up, “thank you for babysitting Mommy.”
Behind them the speakers came back to life, Yazzy squealed and holding her precious Shazzy she started to dance and sing again, “Saaaaaaaaaaaaaango, draaaaaaaaaaaaagon. Dragon dragon dragon.” Althea wobbled on her feet for a moment, realized she was dead sober and when Yazid touched her back and mumured something she just shrugged, she kissed him then threw up her arms to dance with Yazzy.
After a moment everyone else joined in, chanting and singing to the beat of the drums. “Sango, Sango Dragon dragon, Sango dragon….”